The birth of Independent Cinema has, I think, robbed of us some of these wonderful collisions between the pop and the profound.
Often, I daydream about being a film programmer, constructing a list of films I'd show. Having no theater, this page is the best I can do.
Everything's available on video or DVD.
I think it's a great movie. I mean, it's just a nonsense movie too, isn't it? I mean, a woman killing people at orgasm, basically, just for fun to see if she gets away with it is kind of an idiotic premise... But from a point of view of achievement, of work, of artistry or professionalism, I think it's [an] extremely nice movie.
-- Director Paul Verhoeven on Basic Instinct (hear it)
In studio-system Hollywood, it was a common occurence to have seriously talented people working on pretty trivial movies.
The Great Films of our past are often those where major directors/writers managed to work profound themes within cookie-cutter premises. The end result wasn't always as simple as watered-down artistry but often a work of high art that spoke the language of mass culture. (Or at least popcorn movies with wonderful technique -- mostly the case with the films here.)
The birth of Independent Cinema has, I think, robbed of us some of these wonderful collisions between the pop and the profound.
Indeed, anyone who's listened to the album Death of a Ladies Man (the ill-fated collaboration between Leonard Cohen and Phil Spector) can testify to just how interesting selling-out can be.
Let's consider the films here: Shattered (dir. Wolfgang Peterson) and Basic Instinct (dir. Paul Verhoeven) -- filed under the obscure sub-genre of "Psychological Thrillers Directed by European Emigres, Set in San Francisco."
Shattered uses the classic trope of the amnesiac trying to figure out his past; Basic Instinct employs that of the maverick detective pursing a femme fatale.
So there's nothing here you haven't seen before. Certainly both filmmakers are quite conscious they're making American genre pieces (especially in their respective scores channeling Bernard Herrmann).
Yet there's a level of craft and intelligence here you don't often find in Hollywood films.
For my part, I'd love to see Todd Solondz do an action movie.
August 30, 2005.
We begin this series with two neglected films about material success, sensual excess and quick-fixes.
They are also films specific to their times, The Boost taking place during the late 80s housing boom in LA and early-90s recession in The New Age.
The Boost (dir. Harold Becker) concerns Lenny Brown (James Woods),
a New York salesman desperate to make it. Transplanted to California
to sell real estate tax shelters, he begins to live the good life he always felt he was entitled to. When the market turns sour,
he starts sniffing cocaine to get the needed "boost" to turn things around (with predictable results). Superficially a drug movie, The Boost gradually reveals itself to be a morality play about when desire to succeed turns pathological. Woods' frenzied performance is not to be missed. Sean Young co-stars.
In The New Age (dir. Michael Tolkin), LA yuppie Peter Witner (Peter Weller)
quits a high-paying advertising job to search for meaning in his life.
The trouble is there's not much to either him or his wife (Judy Davis)
than what's skin deep. To bridge the gap, they
turn to new age philosophy and toy with alternative lifestyles. As
their bank balances fall, their marriage and fragile social world
slowly self-destruct. Director Tolkin (screenwriter of The Player) surveys the wreckage with humor and pathos.
Be advised, we are expected to sell out at the evening shows.
April 21, 2005.contact: silvarobert@gmail.com | RSS feed | about me
all contents (c) robert silva